


The Tears of Isis

by mille_libri



Category: The Mummy (1999), The Mummy Returns (2001)
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-01-14
Updated: 2019-09-16
Packaged: 2019-10-10 09:30:30
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 11
Words: 19,705
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17423315
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mille_libri/pseuds/mille_libri
Summary: On the eve of Rick and Evelyn's wedding, the dead rise. When Jonathan confesses his latest scheme, they are drawn into a magician's dangerous search for power and wealth.





	1. Screams in the Night

“A toast. To my dear sweet baby sister and her future husband, who may just be the scariest man I’ve ever met.” Jonathan Carnahan raised an unsteady hand in the air, some of the champagne from the glass he held sloshing over his shirt cuff.

“Scariest?” Rick O’Connell protested. “Have we all forgotten about the indestructible mummy that came back to life?”

His fiancee leaned over in his direction. “And which of you is still alive?”

“Well … that’s not a bad point,” Rick admitted. “Still …”

“Darling, remember, you want Jonathan to be afraid of you. He’s much less likely to swindle your money out of you that way.” Evelyn Carnahan smiled at her fiance and her brother in turn. She loved them both, but it would be difficult to find two greater, or more charming, scoundrels in all of Egypt. 

“Hey!” Jonathan tried to remain offended, but he couldn’t hold it for long.

Rick subsided, easing back into his chair next to his bride-to-be, who he firmly believed was the scariest—as well as the smartest and most beautiful—person he had ever met. 

It was a small group for their celebratory dinner. Because she had spent so much of her life with her nose buried in a book, Evelyn had few friends. Most women found her boring, or so she said. Rick was well aware that women didn’t find him boring, but he certainly didn’t know any he wanted to introduce to his intended. None of his male friends were particularly suited to meeting her, either.

But it didn’t matter. All he needed was her. He could hardly believe that in just a few short days this woman next to him would be his wife.

It was a thought that brought as much fear as excitement, if he was being honest with himself. What did he know about being married? He’d grown up in a Cairo orphanage; gone on to the French Foreign Legion; and once he’d mustered out of that, he’d drifted about with other people like him, rootless wanderers with questionable morals. Before he’d met Evelyn, his morals had been drifting past questionable and dangerously close to nonexistent. She had saved his life in more ways than one. 

Now here was this lovely girl, innocent in so many ways, who looked at him with such trusting eyes. He wanted desperately to be the man he saw reflected in those eyes … and was afraid with equal desperation that he never could be.

Evelyn leaned against Rick’s shoulder, wondering what he was thinking of that had wiped the smile off his face. She hoped he wasn’t having second thoughts about marrying her. He wasn’t exactly the settling-down type, and she wasn’t really the kind of girl an adventurer like him would have chosen. Oh, yes, she had fought Ankh-su-namun’s corpse when she had to, she had found the inscription to locate the Book of Amun-Ra … but that wasn’t her real life. Her real life she spent in dusty libraries poring over old books. Rick would find that very boring. Could she really hold his interest?

A burst of laughter from another table brought her out of her thoughts. Looking up, she caught the steady, enigmatic eyes of Ardeth Bey, looking at her from across the table. Did he know what she had been thinking? It was so hard to tell. She wondered what he thought of all this, if he had a wife waiting for him, a child.

Even if she asked, he wouldn’t tell her. He would merely raise an eyebrow and say something cryptic. She wondered what it said about her that the men of this strange new life of hers, as an adventurer, were so secretive about their pasts. All she really knew about Rick was that he had grown up in an orphanage.

Then again, what had her parents known about each other? A nobleman’s son, in Egypt to study history and archaeology—to dig up treasure, actually, although Evelyn didn’t like to think of her father that way. He’d been a lot like Jonathan, really. And her mother, the mysterious and beautiful Egyptian woman who had saved his life in a daring adventure and stolen his heart at the same time. They had made a life in Egypt together, never quite fitting in anywhere. Both Evelyn and Jonathan had been sent to school in England when they were old enough, and their parents had died, of a fever, they were told, while they were there.

They’d had only each other left to cling to. If their mother had had any family, they never knew it, and their father’s distant relatives in England had little interest in his half-blood children. So they had come back to Egypt, where their parents had made their lives, and embarked upon their own careers as Egyptologists. Or, rather, Jonathan had scammed and squandered and stolen his way through one dig after another while Evelyn had buried herself in her books and never done anything the slightest bit interesting. At least, not until Jonathan had met an adventurous ruffian in a bar and picked his pocket, she thought, smiling lovingly at that ruffian, who sat next to her today as her promised husband.

After all, what did their pasts matter? They would make a future together, built on what they had learned about each other in dire peril, and whatever came they would handle together. Evelyn reached for his hand, feeling the warmth of the calloused fingers as they closed around hers.

“What?” he asked, leaning a little closer.

“I love you.”

There was a surprise in his eyes, a wonder, that she found absolutely intoxicating, as though he found her as impossibly wonderful as she found him, and Evelyn couldn’t help but kiss him, bold though it was to do so here in public.

For a moment he was startled, but then he returned the kiss hungrily, one big hand coming up to cup her cheek and hold her to him.

Evelyn lost all sense of time and place, as she always did when he kissed her, until Rick pulled back, blinking at her hazily. She felt a fierce pride that she could affect him that way, inexperienced as she was … experienced as he no doubt was.

“That is my sister,” Jonathan protested. “Have some respect!”

She turned to grin at him. “I think you’ll have to get used to it, brother dear.”

He groaned, but she could see he was happy for her.

“Do you want to get out of here?” Rick whispered in her ear, and Evelyn nodded. They said their good-byes to the few friends they had deemed acceptable to introduce to one another and made a hasty exit out into the damp heat of the Cairo night.

They walked down the street, Evelyn holding Rick’s arm. He was heavily armed, as always, and fairly well-known amongst the Cairo underworld, but he kept her on his left side so his right hand was free at all times, just to be on the safe side. Looking down at her, he smiled. “Alone at last.”

“My favorite part.”

Rick stopped walking and pulled her into his arms. “Mine, too.” His mouth came down on hers, and Evelyn responded eagerly for a moment, relishing the warmth that flowed through her at the touch.

Then she pushed at him. “Rick. Not here, on the street. It isn’t … decent.”

Rick grinned. “No, I suppose not. Come on, then.” He took her hand and they hurried along the streets and alleys to her little flat. Not to be hers much longer. While they hadn’t determined for certain where they would live when they were married, they intended to travel for some time immediately afterward, and Evelyn would no longer need her flat.

The saddlebags of the camel they had ridden away from Hamunaptra had been filled with treasure, no doubt brought out by Rick’s squirrelly little friend Beni before he was sealed in the tomb. They had sold only a few of the least interesting items, hiding most of it to be researched properly later, but had still managed to salt away a tidy nest egg—with some put aside for Jonathan’s use, as well. In addition to the money left by Evelyn’s parents, they were well set to do whatever they wanted with their lives. The fact that they had not spent a single moment discussing what they wanted to do with their lives worried Evelyn occasionally, but right now, with Rick’s hand in hers and the prospect of the end of the evening kisses in front of her, the future was the farthest thing from her mind.

At her door, Rick took her into his arms again. At the touch of his lips, Evelyn sighed, leaning back against the door, letting herself be held up by his arms and the solid wood behind her as the melting warmth weakened her knees. 

He felt good against her, his hands restless on her back and his lips exploring the side of her neck. One hand slid around to the front to cup her breast, his thumb unerringly finding the nipple beneath layers of fabric and rubbing little circles over it until it hardened beneath his touch, the sensation making Evelyn gasp and squirm against the cool, hard wood of the door. She wanted to touch him, too, and she reached for his shirt, pulling it out of his pants and running her hand beneath it across the smooth, hard muscles of his stomach, the light dusting of hair there soft beneath her fingers.

Rick drew in his breath sharply, pressing against her hands. “Evelyn.”

She smiled, loving the way she affected him. Her fingers touched his waistband, hesitated, then boldly moved lower, feeling the hard ridge there.

Grabbing her hand, Rick held it there. And then he moved her away, lifting her hand to kiss her fingers. “We said we weren’t going to do that.”

Through the haze of her desire, Evelyn could barely remember making that agreement, and certainly not why they had made such a hasty promise. “We’re almost married; what’s the harm?”

Rick shook his head. “I want to do this right. To … be worthy of you.”

“You are.”

“Maybe. But there are rules. I’ve never done anything by the rules in all my life, but I want to do this the right way, the way your parents would have wanted it.”

“My parents were adventurers,” Evelyn said tartly. “They were hardly tied to convention.”

Rick grinned. “Maybe not for themselves, but I’ll bet it would have been all different when it came to their daughter.”

Evelyn thought back to her parents, her dim memories of them from her childhood. Would they have been that way? In their will, they had requested to have Jonathan and Evelyn raised in England, sent to school there. Perhaps they had wanted a more conventional life for their children. And now here was Jonathan, swindling his way through life, and herself marrying an orphaned American soldier of fortune. She wanted to think that her parents would have been happy for her, proud of her, glad to have her following in their footsteps, but she would never truly know.

“Do you ever wonder what they were like?” she asked softly.

“Who, your parents?” 

“You know what I mean.”

Rick shrugged, uncomfortable as always with being asked to look back into his childhood. “Not really.”

It wasn’t true; Evelyn felt it in her bones. But she also felt that this was hardly the time to push the topic. 

And she couldn’t have, even if she’d wanted to, because at that moment, the night was split by screams.


	2. Raising the Dead

Rick and Evelyn froze, listening to the piercing cries. “Where do you think it’s coming from?” Evelyn asked in a whisper.

“I don’t know.” He moved closer to her, his hands tightening protectively on her upper arms.

“Should we … go see if we can help?”

“That’s the kind of question that lands a person in a sinking tomb, running for their lives,” he reminded her. Then he sighed. “But yes, we probably should.”

Reluctantly, Rick pulled away from her. He wondered if she was thinking about the same thing he was—Imhotep, and that moment when Rick had burst into the chamber at Hamunaptra to find her chained to a table with the knife poised to plunge into her chest. He had felt a pain in his own chest seeing that, and had realized thoroughly, then and there, how much he loved her. He never intended to let anything like that happen again, never intended to lose her or even come close.

But he couldn't shelter her, either. That wouldn't be fair to her after she had learned to be someone new in their adventures. He had met a librarian, prim, proper, naïve … but underneath had been someone else, someone who had emerged slowly in the dust and the heat and the danger. Rick liked that new Evelyn, but he was a little afraid of her, too. She was fearless and a little reckless and there was a way she shone in the midst of danger that made him want … things he was still just a little afraid of wanting, because the librarian was still there, too, and the librarian deserved love and cherishing and to be taken care of. Together, the two sides of her were dizzying—and not a little bit confusing.

There were more screams, all coming from the same direction. Rick held Evelyn’s hand tightly, turning toward the sound.

Another sound was overlaying the screams now, coming closer. Running feet, and then a familiar voice shouting, “Evie!”

Rick and Evelyn looked at one another and in one voice said, resignedly, “Jonathan.”

They hurried to meet him. Jonathan stopped in front of them, bracing his hands on his knees, panting heavily. 

“What have you gotten into now, Jonathan?” Evelyn snapped. “We only left you a few minutes ago.”

Rick cleared his throat. “Try an hour and a half.”

She looked at him in surprise. “An hour and a half? We were ki—er, talking for that long?” Rick liked the flush that spread across her face, enjoying the contrast with her boldness earlier.

Jonathan straightened up, looking pointedly at Rick’s untucked shirt. “Looks like quite the conversation.”

Hastily, Rick straightened his clothes. “I was the perfect gentleman,” he assured Jonathan. Silly and prone to getting himself in trouble as Evelyn’s brother was, he was her only family. Rick felt a certain obligation to make sure Jonathan knew he intended to treat her like the lady she was.

There wasn’t time for Jonathan to react, because behind him more screams shattered the evening’s stillness. The denizens of the neighborhood hid behind their shutters, sensibly refusing to come out. 

“I said, what have you done now, Jonathan?” Evelyn demanded.

“Nothing!” He held his innocent face for a moment, then sighed. “It was just a little deal. A small investment that would make millions in the right hands.” Glancing at Rick, he added, “And I’m going to need an advance on my allowance.”

“Naturally. If your money could make millions in the right hands, why shouldn’t they be yours?” Rick liked his brother-in-law-to-be well enough—the man was certainly charming—but he had already wised up to his role in curbing Jonathan’s excesses. He had held on to Jonathan’s share of the treasure from Hamunaptra, investing it along with theirs, and he doled it out to him a little at a time … in order to avoid problems just like this one. Apparently the system was going to need a little work.

“What kind of a deal?” There was an edge in Evelyn’s voice, the kind that Jonathan never failed to straighten up for.

“Just … a little dig. A small tomb. In …” Jonathan paused and took a deep breath and then plunged ahead. “In a burial ground.”

“A modern one?” Evelyn asked, her eyebrows shooting up. At his shame-faced nod, she said, “Jonathan, how could you?”

“This fellow I ran into, he said the tomb was the last known resting place of the Tears of Isis.”

“The Tears of Isis? How did he know?”

Rick recognized that tone in his intended bride’s voice—the proper librarian had been replaced by the historian. She was as heedless as Jonathan in her own way. The Tears of Isis was supposed to be a beautiful jeweled necklace, representing her grief after the death of Osiris. As he had once told Evelyn, Rick knew his treasure … but from the gleam in her eyes, there was more to this necklace than its resale value.

Jonathan scuffed the toe of his shoe against the ground. “He, um … showed me a map.”

“A treasure map?” Evelyn groaned. “Jonathan, how could you be so gullible?”

“Well, the last map I found led to Hamunaptra! How was I to know this one was a fake?”

“But apparently it wasn’t a fake, was it?” Rick asked. “Because, you know, the screaming.”

“Yes. Yes, exactly. So … I met him after you left the dinner, and we went to the tomb. He wasn’t supposed to have started digging tonight—he knew I wouldn’t be available.”

Rick rolled his eyes. “Imagine that. He didn’t wait for you so he could get in and out and take your cut of whatever was there. What did he need you for anyway?”

“He … couldn’t be seen in the area, something to do with a woman, he said. So I did the scouting and prepared the area for the dig, which was supposed to be tomorrow night.”

“But instead it was tonight and apparently something’s gone horribly awry.” Evelyn sighed and glanced at her intended. “I hope you’re armed.”

He nodded, turning out his jacket to show her the two pistols concealed in the inner pockets. Small, but they would do the trick, along with the third he had tucked into his waistband.

She held out a hand. “I’ll take one.”

Rick and Jonathan both stared at her, and she shrugged. “A girl has to start defending herself sometime.” Her hand remained outstretched.

“I haven’t had a chance to teach you how to—“ Rick began, but he cut himself off when Evelyn’s hand didn’t waver. “All right. Just try not to shoot me, will you?”

“I’ll do my best.” Her tone indicated his reluctance deserved at least some uncertainty.

He looked at Jonathan. “Where’s this tomb?”

“I can take you there,” said another voice from the shadows.

Evelyn’s first reaction was to jump, startled, nearly pulling the trigger, before it registered that she knew that voice. Rick’s hand closed over hers at the same time, pointing the gun down at the ground, and she marveled again at his reflexes, wondering where he had learned them. In the Foreign Legion, or before?

She couldn’t follow that train of thought, though, because Ardeth Bey stepped out into the dim light from the stars, looking at Jonathan with an unmistakable disappointment in his face. “You have done it again, my friend. You have a positive talent for meeting the wrong people.”

“What can I say, it’s a gift,” mumbled Jonathan, turning his face away in embarrassment.

“That’s one way to put it,” Rick agreed, stepping forward to clasp Ardeth’s hand. “You in the thick of this?”

“Let us just say that I came to help.”

“We can always use you.”

Ardeth gave one of his sudden, surprising smiles. “Truer words have never been spoken, my friend. Lead the way.”

As they followed Jonathan, and the faint screams that continued to echo from the tomb, they filled Ardeth in on what seemed to be happening—or at least, what had begun whatever was happening. He gave Jonathan an even more disappointed look, which Jonathan pretended to ignore.

None of them could ignore the scene that awaited them at the small burial ground where the tomb had been located. It was underground, apparently, because there was a large hole … and around it, the bodies of those who had dug it. Each of the graves near the hole appeared at first sight to be freshly dug, as well.

Rick knelt next to one, shifting the dirt with his fingers. It was crumbly, not packed as it would have been if dug up with a shovel. And a smaller pile than if someone had been digging a grave to lay a body in. It was almost as if … He looked up, frowning at his soon-to-be brother-in-law. “Jonathan, what have we told you about raising the dead?”

Ardeth winced, closing his eyes, and Evelyn came to Rick’s side, kneeling down to look at the evidence.

“I didn’t know that was going to happen, I swear!” Jonathan protested.

“After everything we’ve seen, you didn’t say to yourself tomb plus graves plus digging equals bad?” 

Next to Rick, Evelyn said softly, “To be fair, raising the dead wouldn’t have been my first thought, either.”

He glanced at her out of the corner of his eye. “After what we went through at Hamunaptra?”

Evelyn shrugged. “I’m an optimist?”

“After a lifetime with him, I don’t see how.”

Jonathan looked affronted. “Hey!”

Rick snorted. He got to his feet, looking off into the distance. “The trail of dirt seems to lead off that way.” There were no more screams to guide the way, so wherever the walking dead had gone, either everyone they had encountered was hiding … or they couldn’t scream anymore. 

Ardeth Bey had been investigating the inside of the tomb. He emerged now, shaking his hair back to remove any clumps of dirt that had fallen into it. 

Evelyn looked at him. “The Tears of Isis?”

He shook his head. “Gone, if they were ever here.”

“Something was here,” Rick said. “Something the dead were protecting.”

“So I suppose we go after them?” Evelyn asked. She glanced down at her dress. “I’m not exactly dressed for adventuring, but I suppose that’s never stopped me before.”

Rick gave her a lopsided grin. “I’d say maybe you should take that as a sign to always be dressed for adventuring, but then you’d never dress up for me again.”

“Perhaps I’ll just need to get a bit more creative.” For a moment, the walking dead were forgotten as she focused on her intended.

“I like the way you think.”

Jonathan cleared his throat loudly, and they both jumped and moved away from each other.

Ardeth shook his head, but Evelyn thought she spied a faint twitch of the corner of his mouth. “I will follow the trail of the walking dead, and report back to you where they go. You collect whatever you think you might need.”

Rick nodded his thanks, glad for a friend you could count on in times of crisis. Evelyn was brave but foolhardy, and Jonathan worse than useless, given how often these things tended to be his fault.

“We should go the museum and talk to the curator,” Evelyn said.

The curator was new; Rick wasn’t sure if he could be trusted with some of the less expected things that seemed to keep happening to them. He still regretted not forcing the other one to come along with them into the sewers—what a waste it had been for him to throw his life away on Imhotep’s mind-controlled servants. They hadn’t had the wit to follow the group down into the sewers; no one had needed to die, not then. Now they had a new curator, a younger man who seemed very rule-bound, and Rick was skeptical. He glanced toward Ardeth, to see what he thought, but the Medjai was already gone.


	3. In the Middle of a Mess

They had to wake up the new curator, Mr. Dailey, who blinked at them sleepily while they tried to explain. At last, when even Jonathan had fallen silent, Mr. Dailey turned to Evelyn.

“Miss Carmichael. Are these sorts of jokes your idea of professionalism? I was led to believe I was coming into a situation where the staff understood how to accomplish their tasks with a sense of decorum, and yet here I am, dragged from my bed in the middle of the night to listen to childish fairy stories. Is this some variety of … prank? Have your brother and your … fiance …” He looked Rick up and down with scorn. “Have they put you up to this?”

“No, you don’t understand,” Evelyn protested. “This is not a prank! These things have actually happened. There—“ She groaned in frustration at the increasing irritation in the curator’s face. If only they had brought Ardeth! But he was better used tracking the risen dead, and if she couldn’t convince one supercilious Englishman that she was telling the truth, what kind of success could she hope to have in the man’s world of adventuring? She couldn’t rely on Rick’s strong-arm tactics all the time.

Then again, if she hadn’t lived through Hamunaptra and the days afterward, would she believe all these things were real—walking corpses, magical artifacts?

Evelyn considered that for a moment, looking at the curator’s closed face and disbelieving eyes. Yes, she would have. She had always been alive to the magic of Egypt, both in the more common figurative sense and in the literal. Perhaps it was her Egyptian blood, or the years spent in boring English boarding schools dreaming of what her parents might be doing if they were alive today. But this man was as conventional as they came. It was no wonder he didn’t believe.

“Never mind, Mr. Dailey,” she said, patting his arm. “You’re too clever for us by half, just a prank. So sorry to have awakened you. If you don’t mind, I’ll just take a peek in the stacks while we’re here, do a bit of straightening, and then we’ll be off, and you can get back to your bed.”

His mouth opened in consternation, not certain how angry to be, or if he should be pleased at being included, or if he should order them all off the premises. At last he looked at Rick, standing there tall and imposing, and Jonathan, who he well knew was more than ready to talk his ear off given half a chance, and Evelyn herself, and decided a retreat was the most prudent thing.

“Why … yes. Perhaps I will just … You’ll take care in the stacks?” he asked her, clearly remembering some of the stories about her past mishaps.

“Of course!”

“Yes. Of course. Well, then …”

“Good-night,” Jonathan said cheerfully.

“Don’t let the bedbugs bite,” Rick offered.

At the mention of bugs, Mr. Dailey’s eyes widened, and he hastened off.

Evelyn stifled a giggle. “That wasn’t nice.”

“What? That’s a thing people say,” he protested.

“Yes, but not usually to nice men like Mr. Dailey who are used to everything being clean.”

He thought about that for a moment. “All right, you may have a point.”

“Besides,” Jonathan added, “that got rid of him and now we can do all that research you love so much without him looking over our shoulders.”

Evelyn nodded. “True enough. Come along, then, both of you.” She fixed Jonathan with a stern look. “But don’t touch anything.”

They looked at each other, shrugged, looked back at her, and nodded, and Evelyn couldn’t help laughing. Scoundrels, both of them.

She led them to the stacks, her fingers trailing along the spines of the books as she craned her neck to see the upper shelves. The Tears of Isis … a number of legends spoke of them. There was an obscure text that would tell her what they were supposed to do, but where was it?

And then she found it … squarely in the hands of a young woman she didn’t recognize.

“Who are you?” she demanded.

The other woman bristled, snapping the book shut with a force that made Evelyn wince for the fragile pages. “Who are you?”

“I am Evelyn Carnahan. I’m the librarian here.”

An expression of utter panic passed over the woman’s features, but she hid it almost immediately. It was only because Evelyn was so familiar with looking for those fleeting but telling expressions of guilt and panic in her brother that she noticed it in the first place. “Oh. In that case, I should introduce myself. My name is Alex Dailey.” 

Was it Evelyn’s imagination, or was there a bit of a hesitation before the last name? She was tempted to go fetch Mr. Dailey and ask him if this woman truly was a relative, as she was implying … but he would not appreciate being awakened again so soon after returning to his bed. More, she was all but certain this Alex Dailey was lying about who she was, and imagined they would get better answers from her if they appeared to take her at face value.

So she put on an enthusiastic face and said, “Oh, are you the curator’s niece? I’ve heard you were due to arrive.”

“Have you?” The woman blinked, but if she was lying, she rallied quickly. “I was rather behind my time—I’m sure Uncle expected me several months ago.”

“Travel trouble, then?” Jonathan asked, sidling over to Alex. “Such a lovely girl should have a protective travel companion.”

“Which rather leaves you out, then, doesn’t it, Jonathan?” Evelyn asked him, exasperated by his endless gullibility and weakness for pretty women. And Alex was quite pretty, Evelyn had to give her that. Big blue eyes, smooth braid of hair in a rich shade of nut-brown, even features—she was the very image of a charming Englishwoman.

Her brother cast her an irritated look, then turned back to Alex. “Have you seen the sights? I know a few lovely—“

“Graveyards,” Rick interrupted, with a pointed look at his soon-to-be-brother-in-law.

Jonathan whitened at the reminder. “Ah. Yes. Well …”

“Oh, I adore graveyards,” Alex exclaimed. “An odd taste, perhaps, but as the niece of an Egyptologist, not so surprising, I hope.”

Evelyn reached out for the book. “It’s rather late tonight—why don’t I reshelve this, and we can all meet and take a tour in the morning?”

Alex held the book closer to herself. “I like a moonlight walk.”

“I’m afraid you can’t take the book out with you.” Evelyn reached for it again, and Alex turned away, hugging the book to her chest.

“My uncle said it was all right.” The pause before “uncle” was nearly imperceptible this time.

“Your uncle isn’t the librarian,” Evelyn pointed out.

“He’s the curator.”

“They are not the same thing. Entirely different skill sets.” Although Evelyn was fairly certain she could handle the job of curator if anyone could be convinced to give it to her.

“Perhaps I should go ask him.” Alex didn’t move to do so, however.

Holding Alex’s gaze, she said, “You know how cranky he is when awakened in the middle of the night. And we’ve already had to wake him once tonight. He’ll have just gotten back to sleep, and won’t be pleased in the least to be disturbed again because you want to break a rule and take a book from the library he’s responsible for.”

Alex blinked twice, rapidly, looking to Jonathan for support. “It won’t do any harm.”

“Yes, Evie, how could it?” he agreed, his eyes telegraphing that he was interested in the girl and didn’t want Evelyn to irritate her.

Evelyn gave him a withering glare, hoping to remind him that there was much more at stake than his never-ending search for a suitably gullible woman. “Jonathan, perhaps you could show our new friend here some of the exhibits?”

“Oh, I’ve seen them. I’m simply fascinated by all things Egyptian,” Alex gushed, but her eyes belied the girlishness of her speech, never leaving Evelyn’s.

“Really? Well, I’m half Egyptian, you know,” Jonathan told her. “Maybe you could let me fascinate you sometime.”

Rick looked impatiently out the window. They didn’t have time for this polite fencing match. Let Evelyn smooth things over later; for now they needed that book. He reached out and plucked it out of Alex’s grasp, handing it to his fiance, ignoring Evelyn’s roll of the eyes and Alex’s startled gasp and Jonathan’s “Hey!” “Jonathan,” he said, “why don’t you take Alex on a moonlight walk? I’m sure she’d enjoy your version of Egypt.” He offered his brother-in-law-to-be an only slightly malicious grin.

“I, uh …” Jonathan glanced at Evelyn, as if for her permission, then apparently remembered that he had started this whole mess and probably wanted to be as far as possible from her sister when she had to fix what he had done. “Yes, of course. Shall we?” He held his arm out to Alex. That she didn’t want to go was obvious; that she was well aware that Rick wasn’t going to bother with the kind of polite dance around the truth she and Evelyn had been engaging in was equally so.

She gave in to the inevitable with a fairly good grace, Rick had to admit, taking Jonathan’s arm and offering him what he clearly thought was a dazzling smile. “That would be lovely, thank you.”

Only as they left the room did Rick consider that Jonathan would be putty in the girl’s hands, and by then it was too late. And Evelyn already had the book open, flipping rapidly through the pages, scanning the lines in her search for answers. “Oh, this looks like it … no, no, not exactly,” she murmured to herself, frowning over the page. “Maybe a bit further?” She turned another few pages, more slowly now. “Ah, this is closer. To raise the dead …” Her lips moved silently as she read down the page. 

Rick restrained his curiosity for as long as he could, which wasn’t long. “What does it say?”

“Patience.”

“It says patience?”

Evelyn withdrew her attention from the book long enough to give him a withering glance.

“What?”

“If you’ll let me read this in peace, I’ll be able to tell you what we need to do faster.”

“Why is it always we? Couldn’t Jonathan fix his own messes every once in a while?” he asked plaintively.

This time, Evelyn didn’t bother to look up from the book, even though he was sure she’d rolled her eyes. “Would you trust Jonathan to fix a broken boot heel?”

“No, but then, I get a lot of wear out of my boots.”

“Will you kindly let me work?”

He sighed. “All right.” To think, it had started out as such a nice night. Good friends, celebration … he should have known it wouldn’t last. “Evelyn, do you think we’re going to end up making a habit of this kind of thing?”

“Which kind of thing?”

“The kind of thing where we always end up in the middle of a mess with ancient curses and mummies.”

She looked at him over the top of the book, quirking her eyebrow in a way he found utterly adorable. “You mean, in contrast to the type of mess you’re more used to finding yourself in the middle of?”

He winced, and to his chagrin, could feel himself blushing. “I knew I was going to regret telling you about that.”

Evelyn smiled, snapping the book closed. “Oh, you are indeed.”

“Did you find it?”

“Yes. It says the Tears of Isis are only a myth.”

“Great. Just what we needed to hear.”

“Ah, but it also says that in mythology, they could only be used by a black magician, and …” Her face fell, her voice losing its triumphant tone. “And only he can reverse the spell.”

“So all we have to do is find the fellow who convinced Jonathan to do the dig, talk him into reversing the spell,” he patted the gun at his hip, indicating his preferred method of persuasion, “and we can go home and get ready to get married?”

“Something like that.”

“Well, then. Easy as pie.”

Evelyn shook her head. “Oh, I wish you hadn’t said that.”


	4. Misgivings

Outside the building, they found Jonathan trying to turn on the charm to impress Alex, who seemed completely bored. Evelyn was irritated with this strange girl—not that Jonathan was any prize romantically, Evelyn had no illusions about that, but he wasn’t dull, certainly. Who did this girl think she was, rolling her eyes at him?

Alex’s eyes darted to Evelyn’s hands, looking for the book. She frowned when she didn't see it. “I assume it’s all right for me to continue my researches?”

It would have been, if Evelyn had believed she was who she said she was. Since she didn’t, she shook her head. “It really is awfully late.”

“I like to work at night. It’s quieter.”

“Yes, well, it also wastes … candles.”

Alex bit back a snort at that.

Then from the darkness came a familiar black-robed figure. “My friends, I followed the dead to their destination, and—“ Ardeth stopped short when he saw Alex. “I am sorry, I do not believe we have met.”

Her eyes had widened at the sight of him, black-robed and looming out of the shadows, and now she collected herself with an obvious effort. “Alex ... Dailey.”

“I am Ardeth Bey. At your service.” He bowed over the hand she had automatically extended. Rick stifled an impatient growl at the ridiculous formality of it all, but Alex seemed impressed by the proper manners displayed by this robed Egyptian in the middle of a dusty Cairo street.

He cleared his throat loudly, and Ardeth started a little befor turning to him. “What did you find?”

“Find? Oh, yes. The …” He looked over at Alex again, with a different kind of confusion this time. “Those I followed led me into the desert, where they were … ah, having a celebration, at another location much like the first.”

“Party?” Alex asked brightly. “I enjoy a good party. I was beginning to think everyone in Egypt was stuffy.” She glanced meaningfully at Jonathan and stepped closer to Ardeth, smiling up into his face.

“Oh, I don’t believe you would like this one,” Evelyn snapped.

“How do you know, when you know nothing about me?”

The two women looked at each other, neither willing to back down an inch.

Ardeth and Jonathan both looked at Rick helplessly. He resisted the urge to roll his eyes—barely—and sighed. “I’ll go with you to the … party,” he said to Ardeth. “You two escort Alex back to her—“ he paused, since she hadn’t said where she was staying, then decided just to make the logical assumption, “hotel.”

All four of them started arguing with him at once.

“You want to wake the dead?” he snapped, with a meaningful look at Evelyn, who snapped her mouth closed instantly. Ardeth did the same, leaving Jonathan’s “Now see here” and Alex’s “I don’t need to go home” the only sounds in the street. Both of them looked a bit shame-faced at being the only ones left talking, and subsided, although not without annoyed looks at Rick. When everyone was quiet, he said, “Good, then. You, keep her out of trouble,” he said to Jonathan, and then to Evelyn, “and you keep him out of trouble.”

“Not worried about me getting in trouble?” Alex asked, her mouth turned down in a pout another man might have found attractive. Ardeth certainly seemed to, his dark eyes lingering there before he turned hastily around.

Rick’s eyes rested on her, wondering what her angle was here. She was trying her best to seem as though she was nothing more than a scholar—but Rick’s experience with lady scholars had been largely limited to Evelyn, which meant he knew damned well how devious they could be. “You’re going home to bed. Aren’t you?”

“Oh, of course,” she said readily, her eyes wide and innocent. Just the way Evelyn would have. 

He glanced Evelyn’s way, hoping she had caught Alex’s unstated intentions, but he didn’t have to worry. His fiancee’s hackles were well up where this girl was concerned, her eyes narrowed in distrust. It wasn’t the first time Rick had seen such instant dislike grow up between women, generally when each felt threatened by the other, but he was a little surprised to see it in Evelyn, whom he still considered to be fundamentally gentle at heart, even if she had an undeniable strength, as he had seen at Hamanuptra. 

“Don't worry. We’ll see her safely tucked away,” Evelyn promised now, an edge to her soft voice.

“Thank you,” Alex replied, an equally sharp edge to her otherwise sweet tone.

Rick decided to ignore the subtext. It seemed safest. “Good.” With a final lingering look at Evelyn, he joined Ardeth, following the Medjai through the darkened streets. He had some misgivings about leaving Evelyn and Jonathan alone, especially with a strange woman none of them entirely trusted, but he put them aside. After all, he and Ardeth were the ones following the walking dead. Jonathan and Evelyn were staying safely in the civilization—or Cairo’s version of it. How much trouble could they really get into?

With that comforting thought, he caught up to Ardeth.

Left alone, Evelyn looked at Alex. “Shall we get you all tucked up?” She didn’t care that the question came out sounding harsh. She felt harsh. Whoever this girl was, she was in the way of the investigation into the walking dead, and Evelyn wanted her shut up in her hotel and out of their hair.

“By all means,” Alex agreed, far more meekly than Evelyn would have expected. Was there a flash of something in her eyes? It was hard to tell in the darkness.

Jonathan, who had stayed silent all this time, offered an arm to each lady. “What a lucky fellow I am,” he said heartily, but he was deflated by Alex’s utter lack of interest, Evelyn could tell. She felt surprisingly indignant about it, too. Jonathan was a wastrel and a petty thief, rarely to be trusted and barely capable of looking after himself. But after all, he was her brother. And who was this girl to look down her nose at him?

Alex had ignored Jonathan’s proffered arm, walking a few steps toward the darkness in which Rick and Ardeth had disappeared. “Are you sure we shouldn’t go with them?”

“Positive,” Evelyn replied coldly. “After all, you’ve just arrived. We can’t have you getting lost in the middle of Cairo. Or worse, the outskirts. Now, can we? What would your uncle say?” She laid just enough stress on ‘uncle’ to make it clear she didn’t entirely buy the relationship.

Sighing, Alex turned back. “Very well.” As they made their way toward the hotel, she kept casting glances back over her shoulder, though. 

Once they neared the hotel, Alex seemed to relax and give up on the idea of following the others. She became more friendly, as well, taking Jonathan’s arm at last and giving every evidence of listening attentively to a rather long-winded story he was telling. 

At the door of her hotel, she turned to look at them, pasting an apologetic expression on her face. “I hope you don’t mind if I was a little … hesitant back there. To all of a sudden run into a group of strangers in the middle of what you think is a closed library—and, um, your companion is a little intimidating, armed to the teeth as he is.”

“Fiance,” Evelyn corrected automatically, feeling the usual rush of pride and excitement in knowing that Rick, so tall and handsome and powerful, was all hers. She blinked it back, then, wondering how Alex knew he was ‘armed to the teeth’.

Alex continued as though Evelyn hadn’t spoken. “I of course have heard my uncle speak of you, Miss Carnahan, and the good work you’ve done at the Museum, and I feel it would be remiss of me not to offer you a soothing cup of tea to settle your nerves after the turn I must have given you … and to make up for you missing the party to escort me home.”

“Why, of course,” Jonathan exclaimed, ushering Alex inside the hotel without another word, leaving Evelyn to follow behind. She didn’t know why she felt uneasy, but she did.

It was a perfectly normal hotel. Not sumptuous, but neat and clean and proper. Evelyn noticed a few casual acquaintances and nodded to them, feeling better somehow that she had been seen entering. She climbed the stairs after Alex and Jonathan—whose efforts at being charming were being met with slightly more warmth all of a sudden. Evelyn wondered why. Alex had certainly made her disinterest in him known.

Then Alex had drawn her key out of her pocket and was opening the door. She gestured to Jonathan to enter, but he stepped back gallantly to allow the ladies to precede him. Jonathan was a scoundrel, but he was still a gentleman, Evelyn thought fondly. Unfortunately, this left her entering first, since she was a guest, something she would much rather not have done. Her skin prickled. If she were Rick, she would have a gun half-drawn right now, looking around waiting for something to shoot. Without more training, the gun in her pocket was of little use to her in a situation such as this one, other than as a potential bluff.

But there was nothing for it. She entered the room.

A tall man, Egpytian, but wearing an expensively tailored English suit, was standing in the middle of the room.

“Good evening, Miss Carnahan. I was hoping you would be coming to visit.”

Jonathan bumped into her in the doorway as he entered. “Evie, must you stand in the wa—Oh.”

“And Mr. Carnahan! What a pleasure it is to see you again.”

“Yes, well, I, uh …” Jonathan turned to leave, but Alex had closed the door firmly and was standing in front of it, blinking innocently at him. He glared at her. “You knew all the time!”

“Knew what? I’m so new to Cairo, what could I possibly know?”

“Does someone want to tell me what this is all about?” Evelyn asked, moving further into the room and turning so that her back was to the wall and she had a clear view of the other three people. Then she registered the guilty look on Jonathan’s face. “Oh, no, Jonathan, not this again.”

“Evie, I can explain!”

The tall Egyptian smiled, his manners and accent disturbingly English. “Oh, there will be no need for that, Mr. Carnahan. Your sister and I have a few things to discuss, and then the four of us may be taking a little drive.”

“A drive?” Evelyn asked sharply, not liking the sound of that. But Jonathan cut in before she could get any answers.

“I couldn’t possibly. Places to be, you know. And Evie has—“

“A number of questions.”

“Of course you do, my dear. Of course. Please come sit. I have tea, and lovely sandwiches.”

As if she would eat or drink anything this man offered, Evelyn thought indignantly. But out loud, she said, “How thoughtful.” Over her shoulder, she glanced at Alex, who was still standing in front of the door, with a mental tip of the hat to how subtly the other woman had played on their suspicions to set things up exactly the way she’d wanted them. Well, Evelyn wouldn’t fall into the trap of underestimating her again.


	5. Mr. Osiris

Evelyn allowed herself to be led to the table where the tea things were set out, and she accepted a cup and a plate of sandwiches from the mannerly Egyptian. He didn’t seem to find anything unusual about serving afternoon tea in what was rapidly approaching the middle of the night, and Evelyn was too curious about what he was doing there and what he wanted to point out the oddity.

Jonathan took the seat next to her. He was clearly going to be no help in this situation—the presence of the Egyptian had him too flummoxed to speak. In many ways that was a relief, given the tendency he had to run off at the mouth when nervous.

Alex remained by the door, her eyes fixed on the Egyptian as if waiting for orders. He ignored her entirely, serving himself last and taking his seat across from Evelyn. “You may be wondering what I wanted so badly to speak with you about, Miss Carnahan.”

“To begin with, I’m wondering who you are. You seem to have the advantage of me.”

“Of course. You may call me Osiris.”

“Osiris? Do you believe you’re a god?”

Osiris laughed, showing remarkably white and even teeth. “Do you mean, am I mad? Are you locked in a hotel room at the hands of a madman?” The humor ebbed from his face. “Not in the least. I assure you, I am quite sane.”

Evelyn felt that she would be the judge of that, but there was no point in angering the man until she could figure out how to get herself and Jonathan out of here. 

“Well, now that we have that out of the way.” Jonathan made as if to rise from his chair. At a look from Osiris, Alex moved closer to Jonathan, who glanced at her apprehensively, tried a sickly smile that attempted to be charming, and then settled back into his seat when the stony set to her face didn’t change. “On second thought … what lovely sandwiches.”

“You are not eating, Miss Carnahan.”

“I’m afraid I’m not very hungry, Mr. Osiris.”

He smiled at her. “I was prepared for you to be entertaining. Mr. Osiris. I quite like that.”

“I’m so pleased that I can entertain you.”

“But you’re waiting for me to explain why I brought you here in such a … creative manner.”

Evelyn nodded. “As a matter of fact, I am.”

“If my lovely young friend here had come to you and said, ‘Miss Carnahan, will you come and have tea with Osiris,’ would you have come?”

“You never know,” Jonathan muttered under his breath, quailing under the severe looks he immediately received from everyone else in the room.

“You have a point,” Evelyn conceded. “Could you not have contacted me through the British Museum?”

“As you have no doubt learned from your charming fiance, some things are best done outside the confines of the establishment. Your British customs are lovely,” he brandished a delicate teacup, “but often so restrictive.”

Evelyn frowned. “You know Rick?” With all due respect to her beloved fiance, this man seemed a bit too polished to be one of Rick’s former compatriots. Of course, he could have cleaned himself up. Rick looked quite nice when he wanted to … although he could never quite hide his unruly nature and impatience with the way things were supposed to be done, and this man made quite a show of being the perfect elegant British gentleman.

“I know of him,” Osiris corrected. “His more … straightforward way of getting things done doesn’t entirely suit my purposes.”

“But mine does?”

“Yes.” He smiled. “You’re very quick.”

Evelyn frowned, wishing he would just get to the point. “What exactly is it you need done?”

“Straight to business, doing away entirely with the preliminaries. Indeed, let us do so.” The affable smile and veneer of civilized gentlemen disappeared. He was harder, colder, and utterly determined. Evelyn felt her first stab of fear. “What do you know of the Tears of Isis?”

“Very little.” She glared at Alex over her shoulder. “Someone made such a fuss I barely got a look at the book.”

Osiris ignored the look and the comment, waving a hand. “I’m certain you more than you think you do … or than you’re willing to admit.” He fixed her with a severe gaze, which Evelyn met as calmly as she could. 

If only Rick knew where she was! Half of her was listening for footsteps in the hall, ready for him to break down the door any moment. Except that he didn’t know which hotel to look for, or which room it was even if he managed by some miracle to get the right one. No, she would have to manage for herself … and for Jonathan, she thought, watching him take a small bite of one of the sandwiches. The taste must have suited him, because he finished the rest of the little sandwich in a single bite and reached for another.

Evelyn shifted in her seat, just a bit, glad to feel the hard lump of the gun she had taken from Rick in the deep pocket of her duster. 

“Miss Carnahan?”

“I’m thinking. I really wish your friend here would have allowed us to use the library—I could have been much more useful at the moment if she had.” The irritation in her voice was genuine. If they wanted her for her expertise, why keep her from studying the topic? Clearly, to keep her from learning too much. 

“A regrettable necessity, I assure you.”

“What do you want to know? That would give me a place to start from.” She raised her eyebrows. “I assume you have the necklace, given the state of the tomb and the burial ground.”

He hesistated, caught off guard for the first time as he debated how much to tell her. “I have it,” he said at last. “But …” His fist clenched at his side, and Evelyn stiffened at the movement and at the black anger in his face. “I do not know how to use it.”

It seemed likely to Evelyn that he had thought he would know how, and now he was forced to seek outside assistance and not too happy about it. He seemed to have changed his plans awfully quickly, though. “What makes you think I do?”

“Why do you think I dealt with this fool?” he asked, still angry, gesturing impatiently at Jonathan.

“That’s my brother,” Evelyn snapped. “Watch your tongue.”

“You would do well to watch yours, Miss Carnahan. This does not have to go pleasantly.”

Disturbed by the change in his tone, Evelyn got swiftly to her feet, backing up so she could see Alex better and pulling the gun from her skirt pocket. “I believe it doesn’t have to go at all,” she said, pointing the gun at Osiris.

He and Jonathan had both risen from their chairs at her movement.

“I say, Evie,” Jonathan began, but he swayed dizzily, putting his hand on the arm of the chair to steady himself. “I say,” he began again, more faintly, then collapsed back into the chair, his head back.

“Jonathan!” Evelyn had started toward him as soon as he began to sway, which distracted her enough that Alex could pounce on her from behind and retrieve the gun, tugging it from Evelyn’s fingers over her protests. Angrily, she faced Osiris. “What have you done to him?”

“Merely given him a nice rest, Miss Carnahan. A rest you could be sharing, had you been polite enough to accept my hospitality. Your fiance has not done your manners any favors,” Osiris snapped. 

“Good.” She gestured toward the gun. “And I’ll take that back now.” It was false bravado, but better than nothing. She was afraid for Jonathan and terribly angry with herself that she had wasted this chance to gain the upper hand and lost both the gun and the element of surprise that could have been more valuable later.

Osiris laughed, his urbanity and good humor restored. “You are charming, Miss Carnahan, but even you surely know when you have no further options. So, you will come with me?”

“Where are we going?” Desperately, she tried to think of a way to get a message to Rick, anything she could leave behind to lead him to her.

“No, I will not tell you so that you can leave behind a message for your lover. Do you think I cannot read your thoughts? Now, let us go. There has been enough delay.”

“But … Jonathan?” She was stalling for time, yes, but she was also genuinely worried for her brother. He had been all she had for such a long time—and she was still all he had. She couldn’t abandon him here if there was any chance he would be harmed. 

“Your brother will be fine. He’ll take a nap, wake well rested, eat some food that will be provided for him in the morning, and, if you cooperate, we will be back long before he has any reason for concern.”

Evelyn frowned, studying Osiris’s face. She had no reason to disbelieve him, and a hand gently placed on Jonathan’s neck indicated that he was breathing and his temperature was normal.

“Are you convinced?” Osiris asked gravely. “Because I have been very patient, but there is some urgency, and I would prefer you come of your own free will. It will be so much more … convenient.”

“For you, or for me?”

“Both, I would imagine.”

“Very well.” She managed to make it sound as though there had ever been another choice. “I will come with you.”

Osiris smiled, and even Alex seemed to relax a bit. “Excellent.”


	6. Resourceful

Cutting down the corpses of recent reanimated dead was worse than chopping his way through mummies, Rick had decided. Not just the smell, or the … fluids, but the knowledge that until recently these had been people who had been loved, who had left behind families who would still be hurt by the desecration of the bodies. He tried to be as efficient with the task as possible, to leave as few marks as he could, and he took a pride in the clean cuts he made. 

Ardeth seemed to feel the same, and without needing to discuss it, they stacked the bodies carefully and respectfully when they were done.

“We should take them back to their graves,” Rick said when they were done.

“And be arrested as grave robbers? I think not, my friend.”

“Good point. We could leave a sign at the burial ground,” he suggested.

“Possibly. We—“ Ardeth’s head lifted sharply as though he heard something, and his hand gripped Rick’s arm to hold him still and silent while he listened.

Rick listened, too, and could hear the sound of someone stumbling along in their direction. They were breathing hard, whoever they were, and making enough noise to raise the dead all over again in the peace of the early morning darkness.

He was gripped by a sudden fear. Who else knew where they were and moved like a bull in a china shop? It could only be Jonathan, and if it were Jonathan, it could only mean something had gone wrong and Evelyn was in danger—or worse.

Ardeth gripped his arm. “If it was truly bad news, he would not be in such a hurry.”

Rick nodded, grateful that his friend had followed his thought process, and was thinking more clearly than Rick was. If Evelyn was alive, then, she would be all right. She had to be. She was a resourceful girl, had been through more than her share of dangerous situations.

At last Jonathan came into sight, panting, his clothing in disarray. He saw Rick and Ardeth waiting for him and started to speak, but only a wheeze came out. He waved his hand to ask them to wait and stood there gulping for air while Rick tried to restrain himself from shaking his future brother-in-law like a troublesome terrier.

Catching his breath somewhat, Jonathan gasped. “Evie. Taken. Osiris.”

“Osiris? She was taken by an Egyptian god? Come on, Jonathan, make sense!” Rick demanded.

But Ardeth was nodding. “The Tears of Isis.”

Jonathan waved his hand to indicate Ardeth was on the right track. “His … little joke.”

“Whose little joke?”

“An Egyptian … said he could … buried treasure … untold riches—“

“In other words, exactly what he needed to say to get your help. Was this the man who helped you raise the dead?”

Jonathan nodded.

“And he called himself Osiris?” 

“Elegant fellow, though.” Jonathan was regaining his breath. “Looked like any Englishman. Spoke like it, too.”

“What happened to Evelyn? Where is she?” Rick demanded.

“I don’t know. There was food—afternoon tea. Entirely the wrong time, of course, but quite tasty …”

Rick groaned. “And you ate it, and then you took a little nap.”

“I’m afraid so. And when I woke up, Evie was gone, and so were Alex and the Egyptian.”

Panic filled him, sharp and painful. He advanced on Evelyn’s brother, towering over him. “Damn it, Jonathan!”

“I know. I’m sorry!”

“Sorry? You were supposed to take care of her!”

Ardeth reached out a hand and grasped Rick’s arm. “This is not solving anything.”

With an effort, he calmed down. “No, it’s not. It’s all right, Jonathan, we’ll find her.”

Jonathan nodded miserably. 

“What do you remember from when the magician first approached you? Did he tell you where he intended to take the necklace?” Ardeth asked. His dark eyes held Jonathan’s gaze, demanding that he search his memory.

The direct question spurred Jonathan to pull himself together. “He spoke of a cave, to the east of here. Maybe a tomb. I think he wasn’t sure which it was.”

“So this guy is dragging Evelyn off into the desert and he has no idea where he’s going or what he’s doing?”

“He thinks the necklace will give him power. He wants it.”

Rick sighed. “Of course he does.”

“What variety of power?” Ardeth asked.

“He …” Jonathan hesitated, thinking. “He seemed to think he could control people, if he knew how to unlock the charm of the necklace. As he controlled the dead.”

“We have to find Evelyn. Now.”

“Think, my friend. You do not know where she is being taken, or by whom. A cave? A tomb? Have you any idea how many of each fill the deserts of Egypt?”

“I can’t just stand here!”

“You must trust her. Evelyn Carnahan is one of the most resourceful people I have ever met.”

Evelyn Carnahan, Rick thought. At this rate, would she ever be Evelyn O’Connell? He knew Ardeth was right, that there was no help to Evelyn in them getting lost in the desert hunting her with no more clues than they already had, but he believed in action—standing around waiting had never been his strong suit.

“She’ll find a way,” Jonathan said, a rare seriousness in his eyes. “She’ll come back to you. Evie’s a stubborn, stubborn girl, and she always gets what she wants—eventually.”

Rick could have wished Jonathan had left the ‘eventually’ off the sentence, but he nodded reluctantly. “Let’s go over this burial ground with a fine tooth comb, then,” he said. “If there’s anything here that can lead us to her, we need to find it.” He grasped Jonathan’s shoulder. “You can do that, right?”

“Of course! I learned from the best.” That the best had been Evelyn was left unsaid, and the three of them turned their attention to the mess that had been made of the burial ground, sifting through the dirt for anything they could find.  
______________________________________________________________________________________________________  
Evelyn sat tensely in the car, wedged between Alex at the wheel and Osiris next to her. He had no weapon, but his grip on her arm as he had escorted her from the hotel room had indicated that he was muscular and perfectly confident in his own abilities. She wouldn’t find it easy to get away from him, armed or not.

He also seemed completely prepared for subterfuge. Pretending to faint wouldn’t work, nor would feigning sickness. Maybe if she could get Alex alone somehow? But as the car chugged its way into the desert, farther and farther from anyone who might be able to help her, the chances of separating the other two in time to get away successfully seemed smaller and smaller. 

It was mere chance that afforded her an opportunity. The car coughed and gave off a muffled bang, and then smoke rose from the engine. Alex gave a terrified look at Osiris.

“I’ll fix it.”

“Be quick about it,” he snapped, his urbane exterior cracked for a moment.

“Too much sand isn’t good for the engine.” Evelyn shook her head. “You have to coat the interior to keep the sand out.”

Osiris looked sharply at her. “You know about automobiles?”

“Of course,” she lied. He clearly didn’t, which was a point in her favor. “Would you like me to look at it?”

For a moment he was tempted, and Evelyn’s heart leapt with hope. Then he frowned. “You will not find it that easy, Miss Carnahan.”

“What? Where would I go that you couldn’t chase me down?” She gestured at the desert all around them. She could make out the roofs of a few houses in the grey light of early dawn, but they were too far away for her to run to without being caught. “It’s in my best interests to get where we’re going as quickly as possible so we can get back and I can make sure Jonathan’s all right.”

Osiris studied her skeptically. “As you say,” he agreed at last. “There seems to be nowhere for you to go. Nevertheless, you are not stepping foot out of this car.”

“Have it your way.”

He turned his attention from her, leaning forward as if he could somehow see Alex bending over the engine with the hood up. “Have you not repaired this machine yet?”

“I’m working on it as fast as I can. An extra pair of hands would be helpful, though.”

Osiris swore under his breath. He looked at Evelyn. “Do not move, or I will shoot you somewhere extremely painful.”

“I’ve been warned.”

He didn’t like leaving her there, but he didn’t want her out of the car, either, and she took some amusement from his predicament.

At last, grumbling under his breath in an accent far less patrician than the one he had been using, Osiris climbed out of the car.

Evelyn shifted forward in the seat, listening intently to the sounds of the car. She knew little about automobiles, but she hoped that perhaps there would be a chance to do—something, if she could pay close enough attention to catch the proper moment.

Alex was apologizing profusely even as she tinkered with the insides of the machine, Osiris snapping at her for wasting his time.

At last, seeming somewhat satisfied, Alex slammed down the hood of the car, turning the crank in the front, the engine coughing as the crank fired it up. Osiris was distracted, watching Alex with a frown, clearly not convinced the car had been repaired. And Evelyn saw the moment: She stomped on the gas pedal, hearing the car roar to life. Alex and Osiris stared at her with wide eyes, then quickly threw themselves out of the path of the oncoming car, barely managing it in time.

Not sure how to back up, and not wanting to lose the time to figure it out, Evelyn swung the car in a wide circle around the sand, barely evading Osiris as he ran to catch up, praying that the sand wouldn’t gum up the works again, and then she was gone, on her way back to the city, back to Rick, leaving Osiris and Alex flailing in the sand behind her.


	7. Where Have I Heard That Before?

Pulling into the relative safety of her own neighborhood, Evelyn planned to abandon the car, now sputtering and clearly low on petrol or oil or some necessity, but a small voice that sounded suspiciously like Rick’s in the back of her mind told her to search it first. After all, Osiris had planned to take the car to the tomb he had been hoping to plunder—perhaps he had taken it there before and a trace had been left that might be a clue to his ultimate goal, perhaps he had brought along useful tools that Evelyn could ‘borrow’ indefinitely.

She was on her hands and knees next to the car, looking underneath to see if anything distinctive might be clinging to the chassis, when she heard her name being called in increasingly urgent tones.

“Evelyn!” No doubt about it, that was Rick’s voice. 

Looking up, she saw him hurrying toward her down the street, Jonathan and Ardeth close behind. And then she was in his arms, being crushed against his chest. His heart thudded against her ear. If she had ever had any reason to worry about how he might feel about her, the way his heart was pounding now would have put those fears to rest. She wound her arms around his neck and closed her eyes and just clung to him, only now aware of how completely exhausted she was.

“Where have you been? We were afraid— We thought—“

“You were almost right.” She pulled away, looking at her brother. “Jonathan, are you feeling well? No ill effects?” 

“Fine, Evie. Sorry about … all that.”

She frowned, wanting to be upset with him—but he was Jonathan. He never changed. There was comfort in that, as well as irritation. “I’m just glad you’re not harmed.”

“What happened?” Rick asked her.

“He drove me out into the desert. Then the car broke down, and while that girl Alex was fixing it, he got out, too, and then the car was all right and I drove off with it.”

“Good for you.” There was a quiet approval in Rick’s voice that warmed Evelyn all through. 

“Let us not forget that we have only disrupted his plans for a time. A man does not go to the trouble of disturbing a burial ground in the midst of a populated area, and raising the dead, without being very determined to accomplish his task.” Ardeth frowned thoughtfully. “What of the girl? Is she involved?”

Evelyn considered her response. She hadn’t liked Alex, and wanted to give a sharp answer, but Ardeth generally had a reason for asking a question, so she didn’t want to be hasty. “She’s involved somehow, that much was clear—but she isn’t a full partner, more of an assistant, and she seems frightened.”

Ardeth nodded, accepting the assessment. “Perhaps we could use her to find out his plans?”

“You don’t think we’ve seen the last of him.” There was resignation in Rick’s tone.

“No, my friend. He has settled on Evelyn as his means of learning what he does not already know, since clearly Jonathan and Alex did not have the requisite knowledge. He will not give up now.” Ardeth glanced at Evelyn, concern evident in his dark eyes. “You should be very careful.”

“Oh, I will be,” she promised.

Jonathan groaned. “Where have I heard that before? You always say you’ll be careful, Evie, and then you rush off and we’re all caught up in danger and death and … discomfort.”

“Says the man who woke the dead,” Rick snapped. “This is hardly Evelyn’s fault.”

Evelyn put her arms out to both of them. “Play nice, boys. It’s an unfortunate situation, to be sure, but if we can stop the man we can benefit anyone he might otherwise hurt later.”

Rick looked down at her and sighed. “I can’t decide if I love how altruistic you are or if I miss the days when I didn’t worry about saving the world.”

Standing up on her tiptoes, she kissed him lightly. “The first one, definitely.”

He kissed her back, more fiercely. “The first one,” he agreed at last. Then he sighed again. “All right, let’s go save the world.”

“Easier said than done. Without a greater knowledge of what he intends to accomplish with the necklace—”

“Which we have!” Evelyn said brightly, remembering somewhat belatedly the results of her search of the car. She produced first Rick’s gun, handing it back to him gingerly.

“We’re going to practice with these until you’re a better shot than I am,” he promised her.

Evelyn winked at him. “That will be a reason to look forward to the honeymoon.” 

His voice dropped huskily. “Not the only reason.”

Jonathan rolled his eyes. “Evie, what else did you find in the car? I can’t stand another round of all this treacle.”

“Does that mean you don’t intend to keep coming to us for money after we’re married?” Rick said, a plaintive optimism in his voice. The guilt on his future brother-in-law’s face, and the distress on Evelyn’s, made him regret the jibe almost as soon as it was out of his mouth.

“Well … not _intend_ , as such …”

“It’s fine. What would we do without you getting us into these messes?”

“You talk as though you never got involved in anything shady before you met us,” Evelyn pointed out tartly. “Where exactly were you when we first met?”

Rick cleared his throat. “In a very exclusive hotel.”

“Very.” Evelyn rolled her eyes, remembering the filthy prison. “And why were you there?” There was genuine curiosity in her voice. He had never told her, and she had always wanted to know.

“I was just looking for a good time.” He put his arm around her shoulders and pulled her close against him. “And I found it—and a lot more.”

After a moment, she relaxed against him, her momentary irritation forgotten. He was entirely too good at that, she thought. 

“Well, come on, then, what else did you find in the car?” Jonathan demanded impatiently. Guiltily she remembered that he had been the one who had been tricked into raising the dead, and the one who had been drugged. While both incidents were certainly his own fault, neither could have been much fun, she imagined.

“Sorry.” She pulled from her pocket a crumpled up piece of paper she had found under the seat, smoothing it out and handing it to Ardeth. “What do you make of that?”

He frowned, squinting at it to decipher the scrawled handwriting amidst the creases in the paper, then his eyes moved swiftly from the page to Evelyn’s face. “He intends to become immortal.”

“And all-powerful. With the ability to control the minds of others.”

“Didn’t we just deal with one of those guys?” Rick complained. “And now we’ve got another one on our hands.”

“Only if he gets the necklace to the Lost Tomb and finishes the incantations he began with Jonathan.”

Jonathan frowned. “Oh, only? Wonderful.”

“You knew he was up to no good when you agreed to help him,” Evelyn reminded him tartly.

“Yes, but no good and ‘take over the world’ are entirely different things.”

Ardeth was still squinting at the paper. “He cannot complete the ritual himself.”

“Why not?” 

“Because it requires a female magician.”

“Oh, so that explains Alex,” Evelyn said.

Rick glanced at her. “And you.”

“But I’m not a magician.”

“And apparently neither is Alex,” Rick pointed out. “Which leaves him without one.”

“For now,” Ardeth cautioned.

Evelyn nodded, her momentary relief fading. “He’ll find one. They’re not that difficult to run into, really. At least, not the fakers. But even a faker can get lucky.”

“Yes, and someone who does not know what they are doing attempting the spell indicated here could do a great deal of damage if it went wrong.” Ardeth sighed unhappily. “I know one or two women with true magic, but they are far from here, and he will be impatient. And angry. We do not have a great deal of time.”

Rick had taken a step back, and then another, his expressive face twisted unhappily, and now all three of the others looked at him.

He tried to look innocent, failed, and finally sighed. “All right. I might know someone.”

“What kind of someone?” Evelyn demanded, his expression and reluctance raising her suspicions.

Rick cleared his throat. “A … woman I used to know.”

Evelyn’s eyes narrowed dangerously. “How long ago?”

“Long ago. In the past. A lifetime ago.”

He sounded like Jonathan, Evelyn realized. And if Rick sounded like Jonathan, that meant he was lying. He had known this woman recently, then. Jealousy rose in her, bitter and thick in the back of her throat. 

“We have no other choice,” Ardeth said. She looked over to his dark eyes turned toward her with sympathy. “Time is of the essence.”

“I think we may be overlooking something,” Jonathan pointed out. Rick turned to him a bit too eagerly, as if hoping to get out of having to look up this woman he ‘used to know’. Evelyn frowned at them both on general principles. Seeing that he had everyone’s attention, Jonathan continued, “We still don’t know where Osiris is going.”

“I may be able to help with that,” said a voice from a balcony above them. As one, they looked up to see Alex’s face peering at them over the railing.


	8. All in the Past

“What are you doing up there?” Evelyn cried, irritated at having this strange woman suddenly appearing again in their midst.

Looking unperturbed, Alex climbed over the railing of the balcony and dropped lightly onto the ground in front of Ardeth. “I can help,” she repeated calmly. “Unless, of course, you don’t want my help.”

“Why would we, when you were in league with kidnapping me?”

“And drugging me! Or … so it seemed,” Jonathan added more meekly when Alex turned the full force of her blue eyes on him. “Perhaps I was mistaken?”

“Drugging you was Osiris’s idea. He thought it would be easier. Of course, he didn’t consider how much more difficult it is to get an inert body out the door than one who comes willingly because she’s afraid for her brother.”

Evelyn narrowed her eyes. “I’m not afraid now.”

“Maybe you should be.”

Only Rick’s grip on her shoulder kept Evelyn from attempting to physically extract real answers from the other woman. “What do you know?” he asked.

“I know where he’s going. I know that he has learned a few things from his attempts to use Miss Carnahan and her brother for help. I know that there’s no time to waste.”

“Why should we trust you?” Evelyn demanded.

For answer, Alex held out her right arm and rolled up her sleeve. There on the inside of her wrist was a tattoo that was very familiar to Evelyn—beneath the leather band he always wore on his right wrist, Rick carried the same one.

She caught herself before glancing at him, however. To the best of her knowledge, she was the only person he had ever told about or shown that tattoo, and surely there was a reason for that. “What’s that supposed to mean?” Evelyn demanded coolly instead.

Alex and Ardeth were staring at each other. “He knows,” she said softly.

“She is … a medjai.”

Rick and Evelyn glanced at each other. It was the first Evelyn had known that the tattoo on his arm marked him as a medjai, and she read skepticism in his eyes at the idea that Alex was one, too. 

But Ardeth was not skeptical. It was clear from the look on his face that he believed, and that he felt he had been drawn to her from the beginning because of that bond.

“Are you going to let me show you where he’s going?” Alex asked, still looking at Ardeth.

He nodded. “We will accept your word.”

And that, apparently, was that, and Evelyn would have to put up with it. She didn’t like it—she still didn’t trust Alex in the least—but she would go along if Ardeth was certain. “Very well. Shall we?”

“Where exactly are we going?” Jonathan asked.

Rick looked pained. “The bazaar.”

Evelyn raised her eyebrows. So Rick knew a black magician who peddled her wares in the bazaar, did he? Of course he did. “Some day you’re going to have to tell me all about your checkered past,” she murmured, taking his arm as he led the way.

“Or you can just agree that it’s all in the past and the future is entirely different.” He looked down at her hopefully, and then his face fell as he read the expression on her face. “Fine. Some day I’ll tell you.”

Evelyn smiled, although she imagined this might be a case in which she would later regret not being more careful what she wished for. Still, better to know than to have surprises like this one appear out of nowhere at such inconvenient times.

She felt even more determined to know everything when they found this black magician of Rick’s. The woman was utterly gorgeous, exotic and sensual in a way Evelyn could never imagine herself being, and she let go of Rick’s arm, unable to look at him, sure that comparing her with this incredible-looking woman from his past must be making him rethink his commitment to the kind of tame future he would have as Evelyn’s husband.

Rick could feel her thoughts as though they were being written on his skin, and he wanted to grasp her arm and pull her back to him and kiss her until he could feel the response in her, feel the moment passion overtook good sense. They had reached that moment once or twice already and he had always stopped, wanting to wait. Now he wished he had let things continue, let Evelyn experience her passion to the fullest. If he had, she would have been facing Rana now with more confidence, rather than very obviously comparing herself and feeling that she fell short.

Rana, much to his chagrin, clearly remembered him. Her eyes brightened in a way he wished he didn’t remember and she swayed toward him, completely ignoring the rest of the party.

“Rick O’Connell,” she said, in the husky, thickly accented voice he had once found exciting. 

“Rana.”

“I wondered how long it would be before you came back asking for what I can provide.”

“He’s not the only one doing the asking,” Evelyn said tartly, wondering what exactly, beyond the obvious, Rana had provided Rick. Not that she had any claim on what he had done and who he had been before they met, she reminded herself, but it was hard to be faced with such a living reminder of his illicit and exciting past and not feel a bit put out that she was marrying a man who, if anything, had been more of a rogue than her brother. 

Rana’s kohl-rimmed eyes flickered to Evelyn, giving her a moment’s attention before turning back to Rick again. “I typically prefer not to have an audience.”

“Can’t help it. I—“

Rick was interrupted by Evelyn placing herself in front of him, crossing her arms over her chest and glaring up at Rana. “You have one now.” 

Jonathan moved to Rana’s side, using his most relentlessly suave tone. “My dear lady, allow me to fill you in.”

Rana was no fool. She had sized up the situation—Evelyn’s blazing eyes and pugnacious stance were a pretty obvious sign of her claim of ownership—and was willing to take from it what she could get, even if it wasn’t what she preferred. “Do tell,” she purred. “What business brings such a handsome gentleman to Rana’s humble shop?”

“Black magic,” Jonathan whispered, wiggling his eyebrows in a manner he seemed to think would be enticing.

“Oh, my. I have heard of such magics, but naturally I would never dabble in them.”

_Not without a large amount of coin_ , Rick added to himself, having heard this sales pitch before. “There isn’t a lot of time, Rana.”

Both Rana and Jonathan cast annoyed glances at him for disrupting the rhythm of the negotiation.

Ardeth and Alex still hovered near the entrance of the tent, standing next to one another. Evelyn could see that they each snuck a glance at the other when they thought no one was looking. She hoped Ardeth knew what he was doing, allowing himself to be drawn to this girl. It seemed more likely than not that she would betray them eventually, and Evelyn had no desire to see Ardeth hurt.

But that was a problem for another day, after all. For now, she was forced to stand here and watch as this exotic black magician humored Jonathan and made eyes at Rick over his head, when in fact she would much rather punch the woman in her smug face and open the cave herself.

Rick’s hand wrapped itself around hers, and Evelyn looked up at him, flushing when she saw the amusement in his eyes. She uncurled her fist, letting his fingers twine with hers. Foolish of her to doubt him, after all they’d been through. If he wanted to be here with this beautiful exotic woman, he would be. Instead, he was here with her, Evelyn Carnahan, librarian, and from the look in his eyes, he thought it was a step up.

Reassured, at least for the moment, she managed to turn her attention back to Jonathan and Rana, just as Jonathan was wrapping up a much-embroidered version of the events that had brought them there, one in which he took the most heroic part, naturally.

“So you see, we need your … expertise.”

“To do what, exactly?” Rana’s voice had lost its languorous tone and was sharp with suspicion.

“To open the tomb, Rana,” Rick put in. “Before this other guy can get to it.”

“And what assurance do I have that one of you does not want the power you say is hidden within the tomb?”

Ardeth moved toward her, standing there in front of her in his robes. “The word of a medjai.”

Rana smiled. “I have known a few medjai in my time. Nonetheless, I will consider that your word is good, since you come here with Rick O’Connell, and Rick is not a man who searches for power. Wealth, yes. Power, no.”

“Thank you. I think,” Rick muttered.

“But now, the question comes to me—how do you know I will not take the power I find in the cave for my own? What assurances do you require?”

Rick’s eyes met hers. “Remember the time in Thebes, in the bar?”

Rana smiled, looking more genuine and less studied than she had since they stepped into the tent. “You are correct. I owe you. I will pay the debt, and do it honorably.”

Evelyn looked between them, wanting very much to know what had happened, and knowing as well that it wasn’t her concern. No doubt Rick had stepped in when Rana was about to be in trouble, and had saved her from … something. That fit the soft expression on Rana’s face and the openness on Rick’s. More than that could wait until later. Someday, Evelyn was sure, Rick would tell her that story, along with many others. She had no such stories to regale him with, but as long as that didn’t bother him, she refused to let it bother her.

“So, shall we go?” Jonathan held his arm out for Rana. “Lovely lady?”

She smiled at him, and Evelyn was reminded that for all his apparent ridiculousness, her brother actually was a fairly charming person. After all, he managed to charm his way back into her good graces every time he got into a scrape, and she knew all there was to know about him.

“I will get my bag, and then we can go.”

As Rana ducked into the back, Ardeth moved up next to Rick, speaking very softly. “Are you certain about this?”

“Yes.” Rick glanced at Evelyn. “Mostly.”

Ardeth lifted an eyebrow. “Mostly. You know, from any other man, that word would not inspire confidence. I hope you know what you are doing.”

"You and me both."


	9. Into the Desert

And so the six of them set off into the desert, Evelyn sandwiched between Alex and Rick in the front seat, and Ardeth long-sufferingly enduring Jonathan’s continuous attempts to flirt with Rana in the back. For most of the ride, he sat in the corner of the seat, his head turned upward as if he was searching the sky, and Evelyn wondered as she so often did what he was really thinking of. Disquietingly, she thought it might well be Alex.

For her part, Alex was on her best behavior, giving Rick directions through the desert. Perhaps she was too confident about each given turn, but it was hard to say whether that was Evelyn’s innate distrust talking or if they really were being led into a trap. Possibly both.

“Turn here!” Alex cried suddenly. 

Rick spun the wheel, sand flying up beneath the wheels of the car as it swung to the right, bouncing over the packed ridges of sand.

Evelyn peered ahead doubtfully through the clouds of sand. “I don’t see a road.”

“There isn’t one,” Rick gritted out. The muscles in his forearms flexed as he wrestled with the wheel, trying to keep the car going reasonably straight.

“There is,” Alex insisted. “It’s just hard to see.”

Whatever anyone else in the car might have thought of that seemingly preposterous claim, they kept it to themselves, not wanting to distract Rick from his fight with the car.

Then, as if from nowhere, an arrow thudded against the side of the car. Another one embedded itself into the seat between Jonathan and Rana, both of whom shrieked and ducked down, squeezing themselves behind the front seats. Ardeth plucked the arrow from the upholstery and leaned over the side of the car, attempting to see through the dust to determine where the arrow had come from.

Meanwhile, the thud and the screams had taken Rick’s attention from the navigation of the car just long enough. It skidded across the sand, the wheels spinning as they tried to find purchase, and eventually came to a stop, the front wheels half-buried in the sand.

“Stay there,” Rick said tersely. He leaped over the door, using his booted foot to try to clear the sand from the front tire.

“He is quite a man,” Rana observed, watching him over the top of the seat, her eyes half-closed, making Evelyn wonder exactly what memories she was calling up.

Still, Evelyn couldn’t help but agree. There was something so comforting about knowing Rick could handle anything that came up. On the other hand, she felt uncomfortable just sitting here and letting him take care of everything—if they were partners, she should do her fair share. She could dig sand out from around the tires.

Then another arrow thudded into the seat next to her, just where Rick had been sitting. He swore at it, and at the tire, and at the sand miring them down.

“Who are these people?” Ardeth asked Alex. 

Evelyn turned in time to see the fearful expression in Alex’s eyes before she answered, “I don’t know. I … wish I did.”

“Come on,” Rick said. “We’re not getting the car out if we’re under fire. Let’s go.” He reached out a hand for Evelyn, tugging her toward him.

For some reason, she pulled the arrow out of the seat before she climbed out of the car, clutching it in her hand as she ran with Rick toward a pile of rocks not far from where the car had embedded itself in the sand.

Behind them came the others, Jonathan sprinting on ahead so he had caught up with Rick and Evelyn by the time they reached the rocks. Rana, left behind, picked up her flowing robes and ran faster, glaring at Jonathan when she came around the corner of the rocks. “Yes, I am unharmed. Thank you for asking.”

“Oh? Good. Yes, glad to hear it. I was just … making certain there was no one hiding back here. Wouldn’t want to be the victims of an ambush, after all.” No one bought it. Rana folded her arms and ostentatiously turned her back on him.

Rick and Evelyn glanced at each other and rolled their eyes. 

Ardeth looked Alex over. “You are unharmed?”

“I am.”

Only when he was certain of that did Ardeth come to Rick’s side. “Who are they, do you think?”

“You don’t know?” Rick groaned. “Great.”

“I am a medjai, not a magician. But, if you wish to go flush them out, we could ask them who they are.” Ardeth’s face was lit up, his eyes glittering. He did like a good adventure.

Rick looked at him, considering, then shrugged. “Might as well.” Pulling the pistols out of his holsters, he looked at Evelyn. “Stay here.”

She didn’t like it, but she didn’t see how she was going to be useful in a skirmish with unknown archers. “Fine.”

He reached out a hand, rubbing his thumb along her chin. “I love it when you listen to me.” Giving her a quick kiss, he grinned. “Sometimes.”

Then they were gone, scrambling over the rocks, moving from shadow to shadow. There weren’t a lot of shadows, but both Ardeth and Rick were very good at this. Evelyn crouched there, peeking through a crack between two rocks, her fingers clenched so tightly the fingernails dug into her palms, watching their progress.

“They’ll be fine, Evie,” Jonathan whispered.

“Shut up!” she hissed, even as Rana muttered something about cowardice and hiding like a woman.

“I am your protector,” he said with dignity.

Rana huffed a laugh, and Alex snapped at them both to be quiet. She seemed as tense as Evelyn felt, which only made Evelyn more tense. Did Alex know what, or who, was out there? Had she set them up? Evelyn was trying to take Alex at her word for Ardeth’s sake, but it wasn’t easy.

Rick and Ardeth made their way to two rock formations a little way apart, on the opposite side of the tire tracks from the rocks where the others hid. Ardeth held up a hand, signaling Rick to wait as he made his way cautiously over his rocks to the other side, then he waved Rick on. There was another formation ahead, about six feet tall, and they assumed their mysterious archer, or archers, hid there. The lack of any arrows fired in their direction as they escaped the car, or as they approached the rocks, made Rick wonder if the archer was gone, or if the entire plan had been to get them out of the car.

He and Ardeth made another rush forward, which put them at the base of the formation. They looked at each other and nodded, then each put a hand on the top and hauled themselves up—to find nothing and no one. There was a disturbance in the sand that had drifted across the top that indicated someone had been lying there, but whoever it was had disappeared. Peering at the surrounding sands, Rick couldn’t see footprints, either, but that meant very little. While his sturdy boots left their prints in the sand, Ardeth, who was as tall if not quite as heavy as he, left almost no mark behind him.

“What do you think, Osiris?” he asked Ardeth.

“Would he have used arrows? That seems too … direct for what we know of him.”

“Good point.” Rick sighed. “So if not Osiris, and not the medjai—“ He paused, lifting an inquisitive eyebrow in Ardeth’s direction. Ardeth shook his head decisively. “Then who?”

There was no good answer for that, so they climbed down and headed back toward the car, keeping an eye out but not trying to stay hidden. They paused at the car to look at the tire, which had gone flat in addition to being buried in the sand. Rick sighed again. “I hope this cave isn’t much farther.”

“No doubt farther than some of our company would wish,” Ardeth said, a twinkle in his eyes. 

Rick groaned at the idea of a trek through the desert with Jonathan and Rana in tow.

“At least we will be entertained.” Ardeth reached into the back of the car and began hauling out supplies and organizing them into packs. Slowly the others emerged from behind the rocks.

“You didn’t find anything?” Evelyn asked. Alex’s eyes were wide and fearful as she studied Rick’s face, but she said nothing.

“We could see where he’d been, but not where he’d gone.” Rick turned to Alex. “If you have something to say, anything, now is the time. If you hide things from us now and they come out later, it won’t go well for you.”

He was pretty sure Alex hesitated, but it was almost imperceptible before she vigorously shook her head. “I don’t know anything.”

Evelyn was glaring at their new friend—who reminded Rick of his old friend Beni, in squirreliness if not in entertainment value—but she wisely didn’t push the issue. If Alex wasn’t going to come clean for Rick, she certainly wouldn’t for Evelyn.

“Look, I know … I know we started off wrong. Osiris was forcing me to help him, I hope you can believe that. But I’m on your side now. I promise.” Alex looked anxiously between Rick and Evelyn, clearly knowing it was the two of them she’d have to convince. 

“All right.” Evelyn nodded crisply. Rick could tell she still wasn’t convinced, but he was impressed that she was learning to hide her thoughts better—at least from people who weren’t him.

Ardeth was distributing packs as they spoke. He came to Rana, holding out the lightest pack to her, but she stared at it. “You wish me to carry this?”

“Yes.”

“I am not your camel, medjai.”

“We each must do our share.”

“I _am_ doing my share.” Rana gestured to the desert around them to remind them all that the expedition had not been her idea.

“I’ll take it,” Rick said, more to get the arguing over and get the walking started than to assist Rana, but he immediately regretted it when Rana gave Evelyn a superior look and Evelyn glared back. Not that Evelyn had the first thing to worry about, but he hadn’t had a moment to convince her of that since they had brought Rana along.

“Shall we get moving?” Jonathan asked, already fidgeting with the straps of the rucksack he’d been given.

“Good idea,” Alex agreed, and set off. Rick hoped she knew where she was going. It was going to be a hard enough trip without getting lost in the process.

He stuck close to Evelyn as they walked. “You okay?”

“Fine.”

“No, you aren’t.”

“I’m walking through the desert trying to keep someone from seizing unspeakable power for evil purposes. Again. Should I be fine?”

She had a point. “You’re with me,” he offered, giving her the lopsided smile she seemed to find so charming. She wasn’t having any of it today, though. She glared at him and stalked ahead to walk with Alex. Well, wouldn’t that go well.

Jonathan caught up to him, with a showy display of efffort. “She’ll come around.”

“Yeah? When I’m eighty?”

His future brother-in-law chuckled. “Probably before that. Especially if you can manage to get through the wedding before any more exotic former … companions reveal themselves.”

“With my luck?”

“Well, how many are there?”

It was a reasonable question, after all—Rick just wasn’t sure he knew the answer. He hadn’t exactly been sober for many of his earlier adventures.

Jonathan understood his silence perfectly. “Good luck, old son.”

“Yeah. I’ll need it.”


	10. Cave

They seemed to have been trudging along in the sand for a long time. Rick was at the head of the group, with Alex beside him, giving him directions. Evelyn hung back enough to be out of earshot so that she and Alex couldn’t end up in an argument. Rana and Jonathan straggled quite a bit, stopping to take frequent rests, staring reproachfully at whichever member of the party they most resented at that particular moment. And Ardeth brought up the rear, watchful and silent as always.

Evelyn was positively determined that she wasn’t going to complain. Rick had endured much more than this, walking out of the desert from Hamunaptra, and lived to tell about it. Ardeth had told her once, privately, that he would never have imagined someone like Rick could manage such a feat. Unspoken had been the idea that the Medjai would have killed him if they’d had any idea he would survive, but Evelyn chose not to dwell on that. It was a good thing for all of them that Rick was alive—no one else could have defeated Imhotep. She firmly believed that.

“I say, Evie, is it much farther?” Jonathan called from behind her. “Poor Rana looks about to drop.”

It was Jonathan who seemed about to drop, but in fairness, Rana didn’t look much better.

“I’ll ask.” Evelyn sped up, coming alongside Alex, who looked at her as though she was interrupting something. “I’m being asked if it’s much farther.”

“Shouldn’t be,” Alex said briefly.

Rick looked across the sands. The sun was dropping in the sky, long fingers of orange beginning to streak across the sky. They were fortunate they’d lost the car late enough in the day that some of the heat had begun to dissipate, but if they had to walk too long at night it would be chilly, and the desert’s predators would come out.

“Evelyn, can you tell them to hurry it up? I’d like to get everyone together. Safer that way.”

She didn’t stop to argue, turning back toward the others.

He looked at Alex. “If I find out you’re leading us into some kind of ambush, you’ll regret it.”

“No, I won’t. You wouldn't do anything to me.” When he didn’t answer, she went on, an edge of bitterness in her tone. “I know men like you. Honorable, noble men. You wouldn’t hurt a woman.”

Rick was tempted to ask her what an honorable, noble man had done to her, but he doubted she would tell him—at least, not the truth. Instead, he smiled. “I might, under the right circumstances. Or I might turn Evelyn loose on her.”

Alex turned her head to look up at him. “You think I’m afraid of her?”

“She’s more than she seems.”

“So am I.” She pointed in the direction of a distant mountain. “Over there.”

“That’s where we’re going?” It would take days to get there, walking.

“No. We’re close.”

“That’s good news.” Ardeth had come up behind them, and he smiled at Alex. “You have done well.”

“I … am doing my best.”

“All anyone can ask,” he assured her. To Rick he said, “Evelyn seems to have the rest of the party in hand. For now.”

“Hopefully we’ll have them under shelter soon. Then they can rest and we can get to work.” How they were all going to get back to Cairo with the car in its current condition, Rick wasn’t sure, but he was optimistic that once they got everyone else settled he could go back and fix the car. If possible, he’d like to do that under cover of night, so that whoever had put the car out of commission would expect them to still be marooned. Rick always liked to keep a card up his sleeve wherever possible.

Alex was pulling ahead of them now. He had to admit he was impressed—she had kept up with him without uttering a word of complaint, and was shouldering her load easily without seeming winded. Evelyn seemed fairly fresh still, too, which would come in handy when they got where they were going. He trusted Evelyn to keep an eye on things while he was gone. In general, he would have been fine leaving that task up to Ardeth, but the looks his friend was giving Alex worried him. Evelyn was hardly objective where Alex was concerned, either, but between the two of them it balanced out a bit.

“Over here!” Alex waved at them. She was standing by a small outcropping that looked natural enough until Rick got closer and realized that the rocks were laid deliberately to form a wall, and beneath them was a fairly well-concealed entrance.

Of course, a large slab of rock lay on top of that entrance, because nothing could ever be so easy as just walking in. Well, they had just walked—ridden, rather—into Hamunaptra, and look how that had turned out, so maybe nothing was ever safe.

Evelyn came to stand at his shoulder. “Can we pry it up?”

“The cracks aren’t wide enough to get anything in there to use as leverage. It fits the space perfectly.” Rick looked at Alex. “Suggestions?”

She stared at him as though he was spectacularly dense. “You brought a magician.”

Great. He could just imagine Rana’s reaction to the idea that after a long walk through the desert she had to use her magic to pry up a rock.

Actually, he didn’t have to, because she would be catching up any moment now and he’d have to tell her.

As expected, she didn’t take it well, bursting into a string of Egyptian phrases that made even Ardeth blush. Evelyn looked intrigued, though, and Rick was pretty sure she was filing some of them away to use in their next fight. Not that they fought, yet, but they would eventually. No one could be as stubborn as Evelyn and not be fought with occasionally.

He reached for her hand now and squeezed it, smiling at her as he remembered that once they were done with this, they were getting married, and she would be his, completely, forever. That wasn’t a concept he had ever thought he might want, but now that he had it, he couldn’t imagine what he would do without it. Without her. She was truly the best thing that had ever happened to him, and not just because she had saved him from the hangman’s noose.

Rana was preparing for her spell now, laying things out as carefully as she could on the sand.

“Get on with it,” Alex snapped.

Only a brief flick of a glance from Rana’s dark-rimmed eyes acknowledged Alex’s impatience, but it managed to get across all of Rana’s feelings about the day’s events.

Alex crossed her arms over her chest, leaning against the rock wall. “Fine.”

Evelyn was hovering near Rana, and looked as though she wanted to offer to help, but sensibly, she kept back. 

At last, the preparations were complete. Rana sank down on the cloth she had prepared, every movement as graceful as ever, reminding Rick of certain other things that had happened on a cloth much like that one. He turned away, joining Ardeth on the periphery of the group. “See anything?”

“Not yet. They will come, though.” 

“Unless this is what they wanted. Us, on foot, marooned in the desert, opening a hole that can then be mysteriously closed again.”

“Indeed. We must assure ourselves that that does not happen.”

Behind them they heard Rana intoning a chant, and a wind picked up from somewhere, whipping sand around them. Rick pulled up his kerchief and Ardeth his robes, breathing through them as protection from the fine grains of the sand.

“Rick!” He turned when Evelyn called his name, seeing that the rock slab was hovering above the opening. Rana was tired, though, and her control was slipping.

“Come on.” He and Ardeth hurried, standing each on one side of the slab. Jonathan and Evelyn joined them, lifting, taking some of the weight off Rana’s magic. Between them, they carried the stone a as far from the entrance as they could get it, hoping that would at least slow down anyone who wanted to come along and put it back while they were in the cave. They also covered it with sand as deeply as they could manage, although neither precaution was enough to make Rick feel good.

Evelyn had already taken the torch out of her pack and lit it, and she was the first one into the hole. Rick started to go after her, but Ardeth’s hand on his arm stopped him.

“She can handle herself.”

“That’s what I’m afraid of. I … don’t know what I would do if something happened to her.” It felt strange admitting that weakness out loud, and to this man he didn’t know well, all things considered. But he felt a certain kinship with Ardeth, something he couldn’t quite explain, and somehow he knew Ardeth would understand.

“I have never felt that way,” Ardeth admitted.

“You’re lucky. It’s scary.”

“On the contrary, my friend, it is you who are the lucky one.”

Which was also true. How something so good could be so frightening, Rick wasn’t sure, but it definitely was. 

Evelyn called up from inside the cave, “Seems safe enough. You can come down.”

Jonathan had been helping Rana pick up her things, and now he stood aside, like a gentleman, letting her go first. He gestured to Alex, but she shook her head. With a glance at Rick, Jonathan headed down into the cave.

“Go ahead,” Rick said to Alex.

“Oh. No. I’ll … wait.”

“No. You won’t,” he insisted, gently but firmly.

“I will keep watch,” Ardeth promised her. 

She looked at him with barely concealed fear in her eyes. “You will be careful?”

“I will be careful.”

Even with the confirmation, Alex kept turning her head up to look at Ardeth as she descended the stairs.

“Watch your back,” Rick told his friend, and he followed Alex. He would get the others settled then go back to work on the car.

At least, that was the plan.


	11. In Trouble in Dark Tombs

Inside the tomb, Rick found Evelyn and Alex already in an argument. “These people need rest!” Alex was saying.

“Hear, hear,” Jonathan agreed faintly.

“There isn’t time for that,” Evelyn snapped. “The sooner we explore this tomb and figure out how to find the necklace, the sooner we’re all out of here and well on our way back to Cairo.”

Rana looked at her hands, shaking from her recent efforts with the stone slab covering the entrance. “I admire your spirit, but … I cannot. Not now.” She clenched her fingers. “I need rest if I am to perform any magic.”

Evelyn had not been expecting that objection, and she glared at Rana and at Alex in turn. Rick could positively see her fuming at the check in progress and the enforced delay. “Fine,” she said at last. “I’ll go myself. Someone should check things out back there and make sure there’s no one—nothing—waiting to leap out at us.”

She had landed on an objection Alex couldn’t argue with, and now it was Alex’s turn to glare in frustration. “And if there is, what do you expect to do about it?”

Rick decided this was where he came in. “Good idea,” he said to Evelyn, pretending not to be aware that he was getting in the middle of an argument. “We’ll scout out the tomb while Alex helps Rana and Jonathan get settled. There's food in one of those bags.”

Even as Rana drew herself up to loudly proclaim that she did not do menial work such as arranging camps and preparing food, and Alex opened her mouth to protest being left behind to babysit, Jonathan, bless him, jumped in. “Quite right,” he said. “We’re all famished, I’m sure. Why don’t I start unpacking and we’ll see where we are.”

Rick gave his brother-in-law-to-be a surprised look, and grasped Evelyn’s hand before Jonathan could change his mind or one of the other women could argue against that plan. “Let’s go.”

She gestured with the unlit torch she was holding in her other hand. “Ready when you are.”

Taking it from her, Rick lit it with a match he took from the pouch at his belt. “Stay behind me.”

“Shouldn’t I have some kind of a weapon?” she whispered as they came to the corner of a passage.

“I’m your weapon.”

She snorted. “That’s comforting.”

“Shouldn’t it be?”

“Not as much as if I could defend myself.”

He loved that about her, that she was anxious to learn things for herself and be independent. So many women in her circumstances would have simply relaxed and allowed themselves to be taken care of by a man of Rick’s skill set, but not Evelyn. She was determined to be her own person. Not that any of the other kind of woman—of whom he had met many—would have held his attention the way she did. Several had tried over the years, not Rana but others of her type, and he had grown bored with them quickly. He couldn’t imagine ever being bored by Evelyn.

At the thought, he pulled her against him, dropping his head to kiss her. She responded eagerly, her arms winding around his neck. He wished he had both hands free to touch her, he wished they were far from here in Cairo, he wished they were married already and safely launched on their wedding night.

But none of those things were true, and Evelyn pulled away reluctantly. “Hold that thought,” she whispered, touching his lips with her gloved fingers.

“I always do.”

She made a little sound in the back of her throat at the huskiness in his voice and kissed him again.

This time it was Rick who pulled away, not wanting to waste the torch—or be snuck up on by whatever waited for them down here while distracted by the warmth and softness of Evelyn’s kisses. “We should keep going.”

“If you say so.”

The suggestion that Evelyn would have been perfectly fine standing here in the midst of a mysterious ruin kissing him rather than exploring was highly flattering, and almost had him reaching for her again, but he thought better of it and led on ahead. It was a long passage, the walls lined with neatly laid bricks, and in fairly good repair. Either recently used and maintained, or so undisturbed that nothing had been touched in centuries.

Evelyn reached out, lightly touching one of the bricks. “You can see the limestone is crumbling a bit here on the edges, but otherwise this is in very good shape. I imagine very few people have seen this since it was first sealed.”

He’d take her word for it. “You think the necklace is down here?”

“I hope so, or we’ve come a long way for nothing. Stop there.”

Obediently, he did so, watching as she took the torch from him and got down on her knees, shining the light on the floor. “I thought for a moment I saw a flash of … metal. Gold, maybe.”

“One of the builders dropped some treasure? That’s one good way to get walled up in a tomb.”

“Would you want a careless worker accompanying you into the afterlife?” Evelyn asked absently, digging into the floor with her fingers.

“Here. Try this.” He handed her his pocket knife and took the torch back from her, holding it so she could see what she was doing.

“Thanks.” Without looking at him, she began scraping at the dirt floor, carefully digging around whatever the object was that had caught her eye. She leaned down and blew on it, blowing the loose dirt away. 

“What is it? Did you find something?”

“I think so. I think …” She went quiet again as she carefully dug and pried dirt from around the object. “Ah, that’s got it.” Carefully she lifted it from the floor, showing it to Rick in the light of the torch. “This is part of a larger piece of jewelry—lapis lazuli in a gold setting. Very prized.”

“So the builder who dropped it really got in trouble, then?”

“Most likely.” Evelyn was still peering closely at the piece. “I think this is carved, too, but I’d need better light. Here.” She reached for the belt at his waist, deftly unsnapping one of the pouches. “You hold on to this, just in case.”

Her fingers brushed against his stomach, and he quivered at the touch. “Evelyn.”

It no longer mattered where they were or what might be lurking in the dark. He bent to kiss her again, stepping closer and wrapping his arm tight around her to hold her against him. She kissed him back, but she was distracted, he could feel it.

“Rick.”

“What is it?”

“I … Are you certain about this?”

“About what? This wild goose chase of your brother’s?”

He regretted the sharp words as soon as they were out of his mouth, because Evelyn pushed away from him, her face unhappy. “I meant about me, but that’s part of it. As long as—Jonathan is always getting himself into scrapes, ever since we were children, and I’m all he has.”

“I know that. We’ll be there for him. I promise. I won’t come between you.”

“But as long as you’re with me, you’ll keep being drawn into these things, and you—you could be free to be … I mean, I’m just a librarian, and …”

Rick cupped the back of her neck with his hand, tilting her face up so he could look at her. “Is this about Rana?”

She nodded.

Panic filled him, the feeling that if he didn’t say the right things now he could lose her forever, and words had never been his strong point. “Evelyn. Evelyn. I— You— You’re so much more than ‘just a librarian’. You’re … I never knew a woman could be like you, so smart and strong and beautiful and …” He was babbling now, sounding like a fool. “And I got into trouble before I met you. All the time. I mean, look where I was when you met me. Couldn’t have been in more trouble than that.” He reached for her hand, holding it tightly, desperately. “I would rather get in trouble in dark tombs with you than be anywhere else with anyone else—and I’ve never felt like that about anyone before.”

“Oh. Rick. I— Are you sure?”

“I’ve never been more sure about anything in my life.” He kissed her again, and this time she melted against him.

But only briefly. She pulled away, squeezing his hand. “Let’s get this over with so we can get out of here.”

“My sentiments exactly.”


End file.
